‘Just get away from me,’ he sobbed. She was going to be sick. The knots in her stomach were churning, the bile rising in her throat. She was cryin... now, too. ‘Please David, please.’ But he ignored her, sobbing into his legs, rocking. She felt it rising and dashed to the bathroom, trying to get the toilet seat up before she vomited. She wasn’t quite fast enough. What have I done? she thought, covered in vomit and sobbing against the cool toilet seat. * * * ‘Hart Shafer and Coombs,’ the voice on. We spent the early morning working through the flash cards and she demonstrated how to access the various tools available on the computer. As Emma opened an intimidatingly large, illustrated book, a rising frustration filled my thoughts. I couldn’t see how I could ever learn the awkward positioning of my hands and fingers illustrated on the pages of the thick textbook. It may as well have been Swahili. To her credit Emma immediately sensed my thoughts and to my surprise, suddenly snapped the. More

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